Taylor Swift’s Father Figure isn’t a cover, but an ‘interpolation’. What that means – and why it matters

On Taylor Swift’s highly-anticipated new album The Life of a Showgirl, track four, Father Figure, includes the late George Michael as one of the credited songwriters.

But Swift’s song is not a cover of Michael’s 1987 hit of the same name. Rather, it is an “interpolation”. What does this mean, and how is it different from a cover, or a song that uses sampling?

Cover, sample, remix and interpolation

The vocabulary of popular music can be slippery. Terms such as cover, sample, remix and interpolation all describe ways artists reuse existing material, but they are not interchangeable.

A cover is a new performance of an existing song. From jazz standards, to pub rock tribute bands, the cover reproduces a song recognisably intact, albeit with varying degrees of interpretation.

In his book A Philosophy of Cover Songs, philosopher P. D. Magnus argues a cover is best understood as a re-performance of the same song, albeit open to stylistic variation. Although, he also highlights how chronology and authorship problematise this definition.

For example, although Paul McCartney wrote The Beatles’ Let It Be, the first official released version of the song was sung by Aretha Franklin. Yet no one describes the Beatles as having “covered” Franklin.

A sample involves lifting a fragment of an original sound recording, such as a guitar riff, drum loop, or vocal hook, and inserting it into a new track. The sound itself is borrowed – not just the musical idea.

A remix manipulates the audio of an existing track, often altering tempo, instrumentation or structure, while remaining tethered to the original recording. This practice originated with DJs but has since become a standard part of studio production.

An interpolation sits somewhere between covering and sampling. As Magnus and industry sources note, it means re-performing part of a song, such as a melody, lyric, or riff, within a new composition. The material is recognisable, but newly recorded – not lifted from an existing recording.

In Swift’s case, Father Figure does not re-use George Michael’s recording, but it does quote from his song. That could be why Michael is credited as a writer.

Specifically, Swift interpolates Michael’s original track by echoing the lyrics of his chorus (“I’ll be your father figure”) and uses a melody that resembles – but doesn’t copy – the melody in the original track.

These are more subtle references than substantive quotation. So while the track pays tribute to the past, it still asserts itself as a definitive new work.

Creative practice and copyright

These distinctions matter because United States copyright law separates rights in the song composition (melody, harmony, lyrics) from rights in the sound recording (the particular performance captured on a recording).

To cover a song, an artist must license the underlying composition. This is usually straightforward through mechanical licensing schemes.

To sample a recording, however, permission is needed both from the songwriter and from whoever owns the master recording. This “double clearance” can be costly or impossible if rights-holders refuse.

Interpolation avoids this second hurdle. By re-recording the material, artists only require permission from the original songwriters, or their estates, who then receive royalties. This explains why interpolation has become such an attractive creative strategy. It’s also an example of how the law can shape artistic practice.

One well-known example of an interpolation is Ariana Grande’s 7 Rings (2019), which re-sings the melody of Oscar Hammerstein II and Richard Rodgers My Favourite Things (1959). Because the melody was newly performed, the composers are credited as songwriters, but no use was made of the original recording.

Beyoncé’s track Energy, from her 2022 album Renaissance, re-uses elements of Milkshake, written by Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo, and performed by Kelis. Again, the original writers are credited, but no part of the original recording is used.

Shifts in authorship and creatvitiy

Prior to the 1930s – back in a time when sheet music drove profits as much, or more, than recordings – different and subsequent performances were not seen in terms of an “original” versus a “copy”. This binary only emerged later with the culture of recorded cover versions.

By the early 1960s, covers and cover bands became a primary means of disseminating popular hits to youth audiences, reflecting both changing social practices and the dominance of recorded music.

Read more: Why do we 'like a version' so much? The history of cover songs, from Elvis to TikTok

Today, the term “cover” often carries connotations of derivativeness. Scholars such as Roy Shuker note covers are frequently equated with a lack of originality, even when the performer substantially reinvents the source material.

An illustrative example is Pat Boone’s 1956 cover of Little Richard’s Tutti Frutti (1955). Boone’s version was seen as a sanitised rendition aimed at accessing a broader, predominantly white audience.

Historically, covers were more about marketability and accessibility than artistic reinterpretation. And this commercial dynamic underscores why they have often been perceived as derivative.

Interpolations enjoy higher cultural capital. Artists who interpolate go beyond reproducing, to create a new work that operates in dialogue with the past.

This distinction is especially salient for an artist of Swift’s stature – a songwriter celebrated for creative agency and influencing large-scale trends in popular music.